


A Fire in the Hearth

by attic_gremlin



Series: Four Weeks of Four 2020 [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), LinkedUniverse, Loss, missing people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25715563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attic_gremlin/pseuds/attic_gremlin
Summary: Four is feeling homesick. So is Wild. Maybe they can help each other out.
Relationships: Blue Link & Green Link & Red Link & Shadow Link & Vio Link, Blue Link & Red Link, Four & Wild (Linked Universe), Green Link & Red Link, Red Link & Vio Link
Series: Four Weeks of Four 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840435
Comments: 14
Kudos: 152





	A Fire in the Hearth

**Author's Note:**

> The final week of FwoF is here! This piece fought me every step of the way, and it's still not my best work, but it's here and its _finished_ so enjoy! I really wanted to explore Red's emotionalism in a way that didn't come off as childish or immature. People can be emotional while still being extremely mature, and I personally hc that Red got all the emotional maturity in the split because his emotions are so much more intense than the others, and so without being able to manage them, he would be somewhat consumed by them. That makes it even more important for him to have healthy coping skills and be very in-tune with his feelings. 
> 
> Warnings for brief mentions of loss, and major themes of missing loved ones.

There was a pressure at the base of Four’s skull that seemed to pulse and throb in time with every beat of his heart. He was currently curled up in his bedroll; it was late, far past the point of getting a reasonable amount of sleep, but there was a fist clenched around his heart that refused to loosen its grip, holding tighter with each passing moment. He recognized the ache; it was an old, familiar hurt that he’d been feeling on and off for years, since the first time he raised a sword to do anything but sharpen it. He knew this ache’s name: it was an empty, sickly feeling called loneliness. 

Four missed home. He missed the hustle and bustle of Hyrule Town: the nostalgic sight of tiny minish-sized doorways all over town; the thick aromas wafting from Wheaton and Pita’s bakery; the quiet warmth of the Royal Library. More than anything else, he missed his grandpa and Dot. In a different way, although just as viscerally, he missed Shadow, too. He felt as though a piece had been carved out of his heart, leaving only a pressing emptiness where there should be a  _ home. _ He would’ve just laid there in silence until morning, but eventually, the pressure in his head was joined by a similar pressure in his bladder. 

Finally giving up on sleep for the night, Four crawled out of his bedroll. Waving off a curious glance from Wild, who sat on watch, he stumbled away from the blessed warmth of the fire and towards the treeline. 

Once he’d finished his business, he shuffled back into the clearing. Now that he’d moved around a bit, he was decidedly more awake than he’d been a few moments ago, and because of that, he had the mental awareness to notice something he hadn’t before: namely, the tear tracks on Wild’s face glinting in the firelight. He also noticed the image on the Slate in Wild’s hands: it was a group photo: a young Gerudo girl, a white-feathered Rito, a baby-faced Goron, and the midsection of a very tall red Zora. In the middle stood a short blonde Hylian, her hair cropped short around her jaw. Everyone in the photo was smiling, but no one’s grin shone brighter than the Hylian girl’s. She seemed to radiate light, but not in a magical way-- it was simply pure joy, too much to be held by her body alone, escaping through each pore and shining out from every angle. 

All at once, Four understood, and the cavernous ache inside his heart seemed to expand tenfold. The sight of Flora reminded him of Dot, and thinking of Dot reminded him of how long it had been since he’d seen her, and thinking about how long it had been reminded him of how much he missed her, and suddenly there were tears in his eyes and the pressure in his skull was amplifying by the second. He barely noticed his hand reaching for the hilt of the Four Sword, still lying next to his bedroll, but by the time his brain caught up to his body, they were, for once, in full agreement. He grasped the hilt and pulled, and suddenly he was four, each wrapped in three other pairs of arms. At least two of them were crying, but Red couldn’t tell who the other one was (it sounded kind of like Blue, but Blue would kill him if he asked).

Red felt a blaze of emotions raging in his chest, and let it roar. He allowed himself to miss those closest to him, but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. He acknowledged his feelings, and, with a great deal of effort, let them go. The ache in his heart refused to subside entirely, but lessened enough for him to regain his composure. With a few deep breaths, his tears trickled to a stop, and he gave his brothers a watery smile. He took a teary Blue and a stone-faced Green by the hands and started towards the center of camp, dragging Vio along by proxy when Green grabbed his sleeve. He dropped his weepy brothers off at their bedroll, unfolding it so no one had to lie on the bare ground. Pulling a second blanket from their bag, he draped the soft quilt over them and tucked each one in. Blue gave him a half-hearted glare, but didn’t complain; Red gave him a gentle kiss on his wrinkled brow and giggled at his responding eyeroll. Green stared into space, brow furrowed and lip clenched between his teeth; Red tapped his lip to remind him, and when Green let it go, it started to wobble just a bit (not that Red would ever say anything). Tears still streamed down Vio’s face, his features twisted in pain; Red swiped a thumb across his cheek and gave his shoulder a firm squeeze, and Vio looked just that much more grounded in the present. 

Stepping carefully around his brothers, he watched them each gradually reach out for one another until eventually, they’d tangled themselves into a mess of limbs and blankets. They weren’t asleep yet (they likely wouldn’t be until he joined them), but they were comfortable, and comforting each other. 

Slowly, he picked his way over to Wild, making sure to crunch a few dry leaves on the way to announce his approach. Finally, he eased himself down to sit next to wild, pointedly not looking at him or his Slate. Wild sniffed, the only audible clue that he was still crying, and closed the distance between his shoulder and Red’s. At this signal, Red turned his head to look at Wild’s pitiful, tear-streaked face, drew an arm around his shoulders, and started to rock them side to side. Wild’s fingers loosened around the handle of his slate, and Red eased it from his grip, setting it aside and letting the screen go dark. 

After several long minutes, Wild took a deep, shuddering breath and sat up. Their arms still touched, but he wasn’t leaning quite so heavily on Red’s shoulder now. 

Silently, he turned to Red and signed, “Thank you,” 

Red smiled. Not his usual cheery grin, but a sad, watery smile, drawn into almost a grimace by the tightness in his throat. His own face was wet now, too, with tears of both sadness and sympathy. He took Wild’s hand and squeezed it. 

“I miss Dot every single day. I miss my Grandpa every moment. I miss… well. Someone else, too. Sometimes, I’m reminded of one of them, and I’ll turn to say something-- point out a cool leaf, or show off a blade I’ve sharpened-- and they’re not there. I look around, and then I remember, I’m not home anymore. In fact, I’m further away from them than I’ve  _ ever  _ been. And it hurts to remember that, when I do. It aches in my chest like there’s something missing from the world.”

Wild nodded glumly, clutching his tunic right over his heart. 

“When it hurts that much, I try to do something that makes me feel more connected to them: something I know they’re probably doing, too, so that, even though we’re far apart, it’s almost like we’re doing it together. For my Grandpa, that’s smithing. For Dot, it’s sketching. I bet there’s something you do with your friends that we could do together, that will make you feel closer to them, even though you’re far apart.” 

Wild thought hard for several moments. Then, he seemed to have an idea. After fiddling with his Sheikah Slate for a while, a handful of items appeared in his hands. As soon as he saw them, Red realized what they were.

“Jewelry-making supplies! Is that what you do with your friends? Make jewelry?” he asked. Wild nodded and began to speak.

“My friend Isha taught me,” he said. He went on to explain that he found it meditative and calming, and eventually, all his friends noticed him doing it and joined in. Some were better at it than others-- Riju’s small hands were nimbler than Teba’s enormous feathers, for example-- but they all approached it with the same enthusiasm. He often found himself teaching it to the young kids he met at stables, and several of the children in Hateno had a club for it that they held weekly. It was something he was good at, something creative instead of destructive. It was one of the first ways he had bonded with his friends outside of combat. 

Red smiled. “That sounds perfect,” he said, and they got to work.

From his abundant supplies, Wild picked out a large Amber and a spool of gold wire, and let Red take his pick of the rest. He explained the various elemental benefits and taught Red how to maximize them. For a long time after that, they sat together and worked in silence.

As Red gave one finishing twist to the silver wire around his brand-new pair of sapphire earrings, he broke the comfortable silence: “When I remember how much I miss my family, it hurts. But, it also reminds me how much I love them. If I didn’t love them, I wouldn’t miss them so much. I try my best to appreciate how much I miss them because it serves as proof of how much they mean to me. And once I accept that I miss them and that it’s normal, and even good, then I feel better. I’m able to think about how happy I’ll be when I see them again, instead of how much I miss them now. But Wild…”

Wild looked up at the mention of his name, setting down his third bracelet (ruby, this time).

“Missing your family is normal and healthy. Like I said, I miss mine all the time. But, I want you to remember that even when you’re away from them, you’re not alone. The guys and I-- we’re your family, too, if you’ll have us. We’re here for you, always. I know we’ll never replace them, and we don’t want to, but… You don’t have to feel like you’re all alone, because you’re not. Thank you for sharing this skill with me, Wild.”

“Thanks, Red,” Wild whispered. His eyes shone with unshed tears, but there was joy there, too. Red gave his hand one last squeeze.

As began to pick his way around his sleeping companions back towards his brothers, Red thought about what he’d said. Although his words had been shaped by the promise of a reunion, he supposed, in a way, it applied to situations in which a reunion was impossible, as well. He missed those he could never see again, like Ezlo or Shadow, but he wouldn’t trade his time with them for the world. They were a part of his life, just as much as Grandpa or Dot, and he’d loved knowing them. Just because they were gone didn’t mean loving them (nor missing them!) was pointless. Despite the pang of hurt that lanced through his chest at the thought of those he’d lost, he smiled. No matter how far he was from those he loved, or how long it would be until he would see them again-- if ever -- he carried those he loved with him. Even when every step he took brought him further from them, he would never be far from his  _ memories _ of home.

When he finally reached the tangle of his brothers, he inspected the pile. If he lifted Vio’s arm here and Blue’s leg there, maybe he could-- perfect. He slotted himself perfectly into the pile of his brothers, and their slow, steady breathing-- their very presence-- weighed down his eyelids. He saw Wild’s silhouette still flickering with firelight, and heard his tools tinkling against gem and wire.

He felt Blue shift below him, and Vio’s elbow jabbed into his back as they readjusted to accommodate him. He smiled and nudged Vio back. Just as his eyelids began to slip shut, he heard a whisper from behind him. 

“Thanks, Red,” Green said. They’d heard what he’d said to Wild. Red smiled, and the aching loneliness in him subsided that much more. Warm and safe in his brothers’ arms, Red imagined what it would be like when he finally saw home again. 


End file.
